Page 43 of The Wedding Wrecker

Mr. Wellington cocked an eyebrow in challenge at James, then walked off to order a drink at the bar. One of the muscle brothers gave my shoulder a squeeze.

“Feel better, Emma,” he said in his deep voice. “Let us know if you need anything.”

“Thank you,” I said, trying not to look at the clearly jealous fire in James’ eyes as the men walked off.

"Don't mind my father," Marcus said smoothly. "He doesn’t mean anything by what he said. He just likes to be in control,and he gets a little cranky when it comes to surprises or unforeseen events.”

“It’s alright,” I said. “He hired me to make sure you guys have the perfect wedding, and that’s what I’m going to do.”

We played a few more hands, but even though the conversation never touched on anything beyond innocent, idle talk and competitive teasing, I couldn’t help shaking the feeling that something was off about the interaction.

Eventually, Marcus and Lily excused themselves to go see about some alterations to Marcus’ suit for the big day. I offered to take care of it for them, but the two of them seemed to want the excuse to spend a little time together, so I dropped the idea.

Even though I was usually nervous to be alone with James, I’d grown tired from the ambient music playing in the lobby, the sound of the fireplace, and the white serenity outside. I ended up dozing off with my head in James’ lap while he read a book he plucked from the shelves in the nearby library.

When I woke, I saw it was getting dark outside, and James was idly running a hand through my hair.

Rule number one.

But I was too weak to say anything to stop him. I lay there a while, just enjoying the sensation of his fingers against my scalp. Finally, I stirred because I had to itch my leg.

“Ah, sleeping beauty has awoken.”

I yawned. “Sorry. You didn’t have to stay.”

“I wanted to.”

I cleared my throat awkwardly and sat back up. I could feel my hair was a mess, so I tried to tamp it down a little.

“Well?” James eventually asked. “Ready for bed? Or did you nap too long to go to sleep?”

“No,” I said, yawning again. “I’m definitely tired.”

“That settles it,” he said, standing and taking my arm, as if he was worried I might not be able to walk.

I gave him a look. “I’m just a little tender. I can walk, James.”

“Mhm. This is the same woman who confidently told everyone she could handle Thunder Ridge. I’m not sure I can trust you with your own safety, Em.”

Em.I’d told him not to call me that, but I couldn’t find the energy to correct him this time.

We didn’t talk much until we reached the door to our room.

James tapped his keycard to the electric reader above the door handle and paused as he was pushing it open. His eyes met mine, deadly serious. “Now… are you going to behave yourself? Or should I ask the front desk if they have any handcuffs I could use on you?”

For some completely unknown reason, the image of James handcuffing me to the bed did… funny things to my insides. I cleared my throat. “No. That won’t be necessary.”

“We’ll see, won’t we? But maybe we could establish a few ground rules about sleep-grinding. Probably best to make sure we stick to doing it through our clothes for now. Though, I suppose if you’re planning to sleep in that lingerie I saw, it would hardly count as clothing.”

I elbowed him, face burning as I slid past him into the doorway. My small laugh betrayed me. “I hate you. Have I mentioned that?”

“While you’re awake, yes,” he said, closing the door. “But your sleep moans tell a different story.”

I groaned. I might not survive this man, but I wasn’t sure which form my death would take yet. Death by embarrassment? Death by arousal? Or maybe I’d just suffer lethal levels of annoyance and burst into a ball of flames.

Compared to the mortification of waking up with his concerningly large, erect member between my legs again… I might take the flames.

15

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